"You bet your titanium ass I am," Nikki breathed, a wobbly but entirely genuine smile breaking across her face.
She quickly wiped the remaining tear tracks from her cheeks and scrambled off the bed. She didn't want to go to an amusement park looking like a tragedy, so she practically sprinted to the walk-in closet.
She showered and quickly swapped her tear-stained clothes for a pair of high-waisted denim shorts, a fitted crop top, and comfortable sneakers.
[CURRENT BALANCE: 153,400 CREDITS.]
Nikki stared at the number, a profound, bubbling warmth expanding in her chest. For a girl who had spent the past few years in the dusty, irradiated slums of Sector 4, this number was astronomical.
It was more than just gamified currency; it was autonomy. It was power.
For the first time in her entire life, Nikki felt like she had genuinely accomplished something. She dismissed the screen with a confident flick of her wrist and walked back out to meet the God of War.
